


Death, Come Out To Play

by emjellybean



Series: My Soulmate, Death [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: AU, M/M, minho is death, no?, some sort of thing, they're KIDS, thomas is human, uh...so basically minho is death and this is going to be a tiny thing with another thing, well..., you get?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2486738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emjellybean/pseuds/emjellybean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas and Minho meet at the park when they're children. The only big difference between them is that Thomas is a human while Minho is Death himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death, Come Out To Play

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so this is probably (almost definitely) going to have more thingies to go with it when they're older and stuff because of course they're gonna meet again. Whether Minho is Death or not, they always deserve to be together. ^^  
> Tell me if there's any mistakes please.

They met when they were kids.  
  
Minho was seven. Thomas was six. Minho was Death. Thomas was human. Yet, they both looked like young human children even if only one of them met that description.  
  
They met while feeding the birds.  
  
Minho was crouched down, bird seeds in his hand. There were four birds in front of him. They ate up and chirped happily at times. He smiled from behind the white skull mask he had covering his face; the black cloak he wore only opened enough for his hands to be free, so he could give the birds the seeds. He didn’t like wearing it, but it was the only way to keep people from touching him. They were either scared or thought he was a freak. Whatever it was, people never seemed to acknowledge him when he wore it anyways and he was somewhat glad for that because whoever touched him would die.  
  
While he was feeding the birds, there was suddenly a noise next to him and he turned his head quickly, almost falling over from his crouching position.  
  
“Hi!” The young boy greeted. Minho recognized him as Thomas. He knew everyone’s name from immediately after they were given it. All the information was stored in his brain overwhelmingly the second he had become death, which wasn’t very long ago.  
  
“Hello.” He replied and fixed his mask, so he could see more clearly out of the holes.  
  
Thomas crouched beside him and took out a small plastic baggie that had bird seeds in them. He held it up to show him and smiled. “I brought some too.” He opened it to start feeding them.  
  
Minho nodded, not sure of what to say. “…where are your parents?”  
  
“Right over there. On the bench.” He pointed to not too far away.  
  
“Oh…okay.” He was going to tell him that maybe he should go to them or go to a different section, but he didn’t have a good excuse.  
  
“What’s your name? I‘m Thomas.”  
  
He hesitated. “Minho.”  
  
There was a few minutes of just silence until Thomas spoke. “Hey, why do you wear that?”  
  
“Wear what?” Oh, right. “Oh…the mask?”  
  
Thomas nodded. “Yeah, and those clothes.”  
  
“It’s a cloak.”  
  
Thomas stared at him. “…why?”  
  
He looked down at the ground. “I wear it because I want to.”  
  
“No, you don’t.”  
  
“What?” How could he know whether or not he wanted to wear it?  
  
“You don’t wanna wear that.” He stated. “I can tell.”  
  
“How can you tell?”  
  
Thomas shrugged and looked back to where the birds were. “Oh…they‘re gone…” He frowned.  
  
Minho looked as well and was a little sad. He stood up, noticing that Thomas stood right after he did. “…”  
  
“I still have to be here for a while longer, so you wanna hang out?”  
  
“I don’t know if I-”  
  
“Please?”  
  
“I…” He looked at Thomas for a few seconds and then nodded. “Okay.”  
  
Thomas reached out to grab his hand and Minho quickly covered himself completely with his cloak. Thomas pouted, but didn’t say anything about it. He figured Minho just really didn’t like touching, so he promised himself he wouldn’t do it anymore.  
  
Meanwhile, Minho’s heart was racing because he was so scared for a moment. He peeked over at Thomas who was pouting and felt kind of sorry, but he couldn’t help it. He wondered briefly if being around this kid was a good idea.  
  
-  
  
About a half hour later, the only things they had done was have Minho reject the idea of tag, not wanting to take a chance, play on the swings, dig in the sand around said swings, and now they were sitting in the shade of a tree.  
  
“My parents are gonna tell me I got to leave soon.” Thomas told him sadly. He looked at Minho and thought for a minute. “Can I see your face?”  
  
“W-what?” He was thrown off guard from the question.  
  
“Can I see your face?” He repeated.  
  
“Why do you want to…?”  
  
“I just wanna know what you look like. Please?”  
  
“I…”  
  
“Pretty, pretty please?”  
  
“Okay…”  
  
“Really?” He smiled. “Yay!”  
  
Minho gulped and reached up for the mask, slowly removing it from his face. He turned, so Thomas could see his face.  
  
“Ooooh.” Thomas giggled. “You’re cute.”  
  
Minho’s face turned red. “You are too.” He admitted.  
  
Thomas beamed and then reached his hand out to touch Minho’s face, but Minho quickly covered his face with the mask and then got up and ran behind the tree before Thomas could process what was happening.  
  
Thomas realized his mistake and got up. He peeked around the tree where he had seen Minho run to. “Minho I’m sor-!” He wasn’t there. “Minho?” He looked around, but didn’t see him anywhere in sight. “Minho!” He called out and waited a moment.  
  
No response.  
  
He waited even longer, but when he didn’t get a response or see who he wanted to, tears came to his eyes. He rubbed the tears away before they could fall and sniffled. He‘d scared his friend away. He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard his mom’s voice.  
  
“Honey, what’s wrong?”  
  
“He-he’s gone.” He sobbed.  
  
“Who is?”  
  
“M-Minho. He’s gone.” He sniffled and kept rubbing his eyes. “I-I touched him and then he left. I think he was angry at me.”  
  
His mother crouched in front of him and kissed his forehead. “I’m sure he’s not.” She told him, not really understand what was happening or who he was talking about. She hadn’t seen him with anyone. She looked over worriedly at her husband and then back at her son. “Come on, Thomas. Let’s go home.”  
  



End file.
